


Daybreak

by glim



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-21
Updated: 2010-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:12:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Half-asleep nuzzling and good morning sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daybreak

Arthur wakes first. Arthur suspects he _always_ wakes first, even on the mornings when Merlin spends the night in his own chambers. This morning (though, Arthur can tell, through the haze of sleep and only half-opened eyes, that it's not quite morning, and won't be anytime soon), he's half-curled on his side and burrowed beneath all of Arthur's bedclothes. And that's about as far as Arthur gets in the way of realizing anything that morning before he lets his own body curl around the one next to his and he dozes off again for a few more minutes.

Because, well, Merlin's still asleep and the bed is quite warm and Arthur doesn’t really do much in the way of thinking even when he's the first to wake up. Mostly, his brain manages "Merlin" and "warm" and doesn't get further than that. His body moves in towards the warmth almost automatically and his arm slips around Merlin to pull him in close against Arthur's chest.

Warm. Incredibly, wonderfully warm. Arthur rubs his face into Merlin's rumpled hair and snuffles behind his ear, which earns him a sleepy-pleased sound from Merlin. He's awake enough to know that doing it again will get him another similar reaction, so Arthur presses his nose into that small, snug space behind his ear and nuzzles affectionately.

Not only does Merlin make that pleased sound again, but he also presses his body back against Arthur's. Sleepy-pleased, sleep-warm, bed-warm body, his back against Arthur's chest and his bare feet brushing against Arthur's. Awake, Merlin's all angled-limbs and awkward movement, bumping into Arthur, dropping his armor, and tripping up stairs. Half-asleep, he's loose-limbed and pliant, sliding a hand back to rest against Arthur's thigh and nestling in close to fit his body against Arthur's.

And it _fits_. Just so. Curves and angles in all the right places.

Curve of his neck and the angle of his hip, Arthur thinks, burying his face in the first and resting his hand over the second. He knows Merlin likes this: the way Arthur rubs his face against the length of his neck or tickles the back of his shoulder with nuzzling kisses. He knows, yet he's still so taken with the reaction he gets from Merlin, the rush of arousal that has him leaning into Arthur's touch for more.

It is, almost, unbelievable. That Arthur could wake up to find this: warmth. Angular and imperfect and _Merlin_.

_Just so_, he thinks again, and, his breath hot and damp against the skin of Merlin's neck, he nudges his erection against Merlin and waits for the small sigh that tells him Merlin is awake enough to feel the same want he does.

Arthur nuzzles up against the side of Merlin's neck and traces the edge of his ear with nose and lips, because, he can never get enough of the way that sends a shiver through Merlin's body. Through his own body, too, and Arthur presses the smallest, quietest kisses to Merlin's ear until he shivers again, and he is so near that Arthur can sense and know he caused the tremble in Merlin's limbs and breath.

And, then, the disbelief again, the wonder and warmth, the press of body to body that somehow move so well together. Not awkward, not clumsy, not too different to be together like this.

The small, trembling movements are what does it for Arthur, the way Merlin nudges his body against Arthur's, the arch of his back against Arthur's chest, the scrabble of his fingers for purchase as they fumble against his side, the brush of his hair against Arthur's cheek and the taste of his skin at the flick of Arthur's tongue against his neck.

Then, Arthur, the warmth and content confusion of sleep still clinging to his mind while his body is fully-aroused, fully-awake, fully in love with the way his bed and body and Merlin's body are damp with breath and sweat, curls his hand around Merlin's cock. His own desire swells, too, but, no; first, he wants to feel Merlin shudder against him. He stokes him, brings him to hard, fast arousal, then teases him until the sounds Merlin makes go from need to desperation. Merlin's body tenses, then arches and curves, and he comes, hot, wet, and sticky over Arthur's hand and over his own stomach.

There's a shiver – from both of them – and neither of them move. Arthur gasps once, the sound quiet and sharp, and that swell of arousal feels like it could go on forever. He could fit their bodies together even better and press himself inside Merlin, he could, but Arthur's suddenly still and there is skin and sweat and it's too early to worry about the sort of control he ought to have over himself or his lover.

Merlin reaches his hand back to rub the heel against Arthur's thigh, just a few times, and he only mumbles something non-verbal in a voice that's too rough and low to be soothing, before Arthur's breath catches again.

When that forever moment lasts a little bit too long, when it becomes a little bit too painful, Arthur buries his face in Merlin's neck once more. He spends himself between their bodies, biting back a shout and even muffling his groan in the join between Merlin's neck and shoulder.

They're both sticky now with come and sweat and when Merlin turns to fit their bodies together, face to face, the bed's too warm. Arthur doesn’t move away from him, though, not with all that comfortable sleepiness between the two of them and the morning still not quite upon them yet. Merlin slides their legs together and puts his arms around Arthur with a sort of drowsy, satisfied grace and shares a few lazy kisses with him.

Arthur suspects, before he falls back to sleep, that in an hour or so, for the second time that day, he'll be the first to wake. He also suspects, despite what he might say then, he won't be able to mind as much as he claims he does. He will call Merlin lazy, call him stupid and clumsy, but Arthur will think of the moment before daybreak and know those words are only half-true and spoken not without affection.


End file.
